


monica

by WattStalf



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, idk what else to tag they're just talking about stuff, probably not good but i did my best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 11:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: Monica tells him the name of a girl who is already dead, though she doesn’t fully realize it at the moment.





	monica

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if this makes sense or is anything worth anything, but I wanted to try writing them so I did, whoo  
> this is probably mildly AU i think? I mean things end up happening with canon but uh anyway just shut up and read it or don't

She can’t reveal everything to him, not now and not yet, and he never minds, but there are times that she comes close and that she considers revealing herself entirely to him, only to remember, at the last minute, that the time isn’t right. In fact, the time may never be right, and then Monica decides that  _ she _ doesn’t mind. Fair or not, right or wrong, things are better this way, for now, and maybe forever.

But he knows a little bit, and she lets a little bit of herself slip from time to time- never everything, but enough to feel like Huey is coming to know the parts of her that she keeps hidden. It is a nice, but dangerous, feeling, being able to open up to the man she loves so easily, and that is why, one night, she tells him something from her past that she has long kept hidden.

Monica tells him the name of a girl who is already dead, though she doesn’t fully realize it at the moment.

 

It’s getting late, and she knows that she needs to get home soon, but this happens more and more frequently. They both find it difficult to end their time together nowadays, and she couldn’t be happier, even knowing that staying out to all hours with a young man is supposed to mean trouble. She needs to leave soon, but for the time being, they’re both a little too distracted for him to escort her home.

With how often they take time to themselves lately, and with how often it turns into  _ this _ , one might think they’d get tired of it eventually. And really, it is just the same thing, over and over and over again, and Monica could never imagine getting tired of it. When it starts, the first night that he takes things further than either of them anticipated, she is afraid and ecstatic, and it is more awkward than anything else.

At the time, she doesn’t know how it is supposed to feel- and still, she doesn’t  _ know _ , because it isn’t as if she has anyone to  _ ask _ \- and though she’s sure that it doesn’t do nearly as much as it does for Huey, there is a pleasure that comes just from sharing that experience with him, and to be the only one he has ever shared it with. And then, it becomes more and more frequent, and he gets practice, and then…

Now, Monica doesn’t think it’s possible for her to ever get tired of it.

Tonight is no different, and after only talking for a short time, they found themselves like they always do, tangled up with their clothes abandoned, and the time passes so quickly that she  _ knows _ she needs to get home soon, but even after he’s exhausted himself and she’s just laying with him, she can’t bring herself to mention it, and as long as Huey doesn’t bring it up either, she’ll remain like this. They’re both more than likely thinking the same thing; if neither of them speaks of, she never really has to leave.

It excites her in an entirely different way to think that he might be thinking something like that, the sort of thing she would have fantasized about when being this close to him  _ was _ nothing but a fantasy. She always would have done anything to be close to Huey, but to think things have come this far, that he loves her in that possessive, all-consuming way...he loves her the way she loves him, in that regard, and she knows that it isn’t a dream only because, before, she never even dreamed about  _ this _ .

She must have a look on her face, maybe even happier than usual, or more lost in thought, because he speaks to her then, snapping her out of it with a soft, “Monica…”

Normally, hearing him say her name only serves to make her happier, and root her in the moment, but tonight, it causes her mind to wander further, even as she responds to him. Even as she responds to him, she begins to think of the looming threat of her past, and then, of her past and herself, and the girl that died that day, of the day that she died, to be replaced by Monica, and then, when they’ve fallen silent again, she lets it slip.

“I used to…” she starts, then stops. “M-my name…” Nothing she can think of seems like the right way to address the subject, and she wonders  _ why _ she’s addressing it to begin with, but now that she’s started, she wants to go through with it. Even knowing that it could be a very bad idea, she wants to show him this small part of her.

“Your name?” he asks.

“I-it hasn’t always...been M-monica.” It doesn’t feel like the best way to say it, but then, is there any other way to say it? She isn’t sure, and she still isn’t sure why she feels the need to say it at all.

Huey pauses for a moment, taking in the information, before he speaks again. She half-expects him to ask for more details, to want to know why the change happened, and if that’s the case, she can only tell him, “Not yet,” and even if he agrees and doesn’t press for more information, she’ll still feel bad for not telling him, and for having brought it up to begin with.

But Huey just nods, like he already understands that she can’t give him that information, before he asks, “Why are you telling me now?”

“I-I wanted to know…” It’s only as she answers him that she fully understands why she told him. “I wanted to h-hear you say it...I-I wanted to know what it sounded like when  _ you _ said it.” As she admits it, despite the seriousness of the situation and the gravity of what she’s revealing to him, she can feel her face growing hot, and she knows she must be visibly red now. It  _ is _ embarrassing, asking something like that, even with how serious it is.

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is?” he asks, before correcting himself. “Was.”

“Maribel.” She whispers it, and her voice cracks, as she tells him the name of the dead girl she used to be, a name she hasn’t said in years and that she’s only heard from her brother, on occasion, when they rarely see each other and he even more rarely forgets himself.

Huey nods again, closing then opening his eyes, and pushing a stray strand of her hair out of her face. He is slow to do it, and she wonders if he is teasing her, before he parts her lips and says it. “Maribel.”

He doesn’t say anything else with it, but that’s just as well. Even hearing it in his voice-  _ especially _ hearing it in his voice- she already knows what she wanted to know, and if he were to follow it up with a compliment-  _ Maribel, you’re beautiful _ \- or his feelings-  _ Maribel, I love you _ \- then she might even feel a hint of jealousy. The lie that Maribel died that day is not a lie, and hearing Huey speak to the girl she used to be is all the confirmation she needs.

When she is with Huey, all of the times that she has been with Huey, she has been Monica, regardless of the face she wore; regardless of the many facets to her self, those facets have always and only made up Monica. Her name only has as much significance as she lets it, but, knowing that, she is glad to lay her old name to rest for now.

Even knowing that she may have to face it again, perhaps very soon, she pushes that thought out of her mind, and finally responds to him. She shakes her head and says, “That was a long time ago.”

“Monica, then.”

“Monica.”

She doesn’t end up making it home that night, but soon enough, that night will become just one of many fond memories that she keeps close to her as she faces the past of the long dead Maribel.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in my writing updates, please follow my fanfiction twitter @WattStalf  
> I'll follow back so long as you don't post anything hateful!


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